


Bodyguard

by kettish



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: But only because Obi cares, Frottage, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kettish/pseuds/kettish
Summary: For QuiObi Week 2018: "Bodyguard." Qui-Gon is undercover, playing bodyguard to a drug lord, when he makes the mistake of crossing a rival drug lord named Kenobi.





	Bodyguard

Going after Kenobi to take him in to Qui-Gon’s “boss,” Garummm, may not have been the brightest plan. Kenobi, from what Qui-Gon had seen as he played bodyguard to a spice lord, was terrifying with a knife, cultured, a proficient interrogator even with little to no tools at hand, and flirtatious to anyone sentient, especially Qui-Gon.

 

But as much as he’d been a gorgeous menace, Qui-Gon had a job to do, mainly gathering information on Garummm while Judicial put their operation into place. It’d only been a few weeks, so Qui-Gon was still struggling to gain Garummm’s full trust, so when he saw Kenobi leaving the compound with a few slaves Qui-Gon knew belonged to Garummm, he’d only hesitated a little.

  
  


He woke up, bound head to toe, and with Kenobi sitting, with one leg crossed over the other, on a bed in front of him.

 

“You’re wondering why you’re alive, I imagine,” the redhead said. Qui-Gon gave a grudging, bleary nod. Kenobi nodded back. “I thought so. I couldn’t bring myself to kill you since you seem like a good man, but I can’t have you dragging me to your employer and mucking up all my plans, either. So we’ll settle for keeping you here until I’m done.”

 

Qui-Gon couldn’t help himself: weeks spent in the company of some of the least-composed beings he’d ever associated with had eroded his self-control somewhat. He snorted. Kenobi’s lips twisted in a suppressed smile, and his eyes sparkled with amusement at him.

 

“We’ll see,” Qui-Gon said, and the other man’s mouth spread slowly from a tight grin to a wide, challenging smile. 

 

“So we shall,” he agreed, and Qui-Gon honestly should have just kept his mouth shut.

 

Five minutes later Kenobi went to the ‘fresher, and Qui-Gon opened his bonds with a quick use of the Force. Astonishingly, the other man came bursting out of the refresher the second after he did so, having apparently ditched his trousers in his haste, and brought him down in his boxers with a flying tackle from behind as Qui-Gon went for the door. He was stronger than Qui-Gon had realized, ropy muscle barreling into him at top speed, and even someone of Qui-Gon’s size couldn’t fight that much momentum. His head knocked hard against the door frame in the tussle and everything immediately went black.

 

Qui-Gon woke again later with a pounding headache and decided to reevaluate his previous decision. He absolutely did not think about Kenobi’s thighs straddling him as he went down.

 

Surely the drug lord would need to leave eventually, Qui-Gon thought. He seemed to be a busy man. He didn’t try and escape again when his captor left the room to go to the kitchenette and have latemeal, but he did wonder if Kenobi would go so far as to actually sleep with him in the same room.

 

Turned out, he would not. Instead, Kenobi called for an assistant: a Yinchorri male of their warrior caste, who bowed to Kenobi as he would have to any warlord on his home world. Qui-Gon’s heart sank; Yinchorri were immune to mind tricks, as a general rule, and he had hoped to use one on a less strong-willed guard to escape while Kenobi was away. Instead, the Yinchorri waited for Kenobi to exit, bowing once more as Kenobi nodded to him in approval and left, and once the door had slid shut again, the reptilian being leaned back against it, deliberately, and stared at Qui-Gon with all the intensity of his predatory ancestors.

 

Nobody would go in or out the door without him knowing, and his unblinking gaze meant even small, Force-enhanced movements would be noticed. Qui-Gon sighed, letting his head drop back in irritation, and tried to rest.

 

He was halfway dozing, but Qui-Gon jerked awake when the Yinchorri guard stepped towards him some indeterminable hours later. He felt alarm, wondering what the male was doing, and then further when he crouched at his feet and--

 

Massaged his legs. 

 

Qui-Gon had no idea what was happening, except that his legs were full of pins-and-needles now as the Yinchorri encouraged blood flow to return and then went to do the same to his arms, leaving him bound. Bewildered, he looked over at the guard’s face and blurted, “Why are you touching me?”

 

“Kenobi ordered it,” the Yinchorri said, curt, and then would say no more. A few hours later he gave Qui-Gon water and half of a ration bar--enough to keep him alive, but still wanting, which was an intelligent choice for his captor to make. It would’ve been very effective if Qui-Gon wasn’t a Jedi. 

 

The Yinchorri returned to staring at him from the door. Qui-Gon went back to dozing.

 

Another few hours later by Qui-Gon’s internal clock, the door slid open, the Yinchorri whirling to ready himself for attack if necessary. Kenobi strolled past him, unconcerned, and the guard relaxed to stand attentively, waiting for orders.

 

“Dismissed,” Kenobi said, “Be back here again tomorrow, same time. Good job.” The Yinchorri’s chest puffed slightly, his coloring brightening, before he returned to normal and left. Qui-Gon was resigned to another evening alone with him before he saw Kenobi shift slightly, one hip canting to the side in a pose he normally wore when dealing with his equals, especially those he wished to charm, and he realized they weren’t going to be alone.

 

“Shivin, do come in,” Kenobi called, and a tall male human stepped in. He had hair kept long like Qui-Gon’s, but unlike his, it was littered with trinkets and beads in the front, and the back was slicked with product and tied up high. But it was his eyes that had always concerned Qui-Gon: they were yellow, with a slit-like pupil that meant there was no way he was Core-stock human, and they had always followed Garummm around the room with hateful intent. They were the eyes of a being who was biding their time, and so Qui-Gon had always kept watch.

 

Shivin saw Qui-Gon trussed in a chair by the bed and immediately barked disbelieving laughter.

 

“Kenobi! You karking whoreson, this is where Garummm’s bodyguard has been? That idiot has been frantic to have him back!” Kenobi grinned slyly, and Shivin’s face turned even more gleeful. “What the hell are you doing with him here, anyway? Why haven’t you just had him dealt with and disposed of?”

 

“A man has to have his hobbies,” Kenobi purred in velvet tones, and ran a proprietary hand over Qui-Gon’s bearded jaw. “And he’s such an attractive man. It’d be such a waste.”

 

“Each to their own, I guess,” Shivin shrugged, still grinning, “but he’s not to my taste. I don’t get it.”

 

“You don’t need to. I get it enough for us both,” Kenobi said, sliding into Qui-Gon’s lap and straddling him. Qui-Gon’s eyes widened as Kenobi’s weight pressed down onto his thighs, and he had to think very hard about disgusting things in order to keep his body from reacting. Then he didn’t get a choice in the matter as Kenobi leaned in and licked and bit gently just under his ear.

 

“Sorry,” Kenobi whispered in a voice so soft Qui-Gon might’ve missed it, and then Kenobi was kissing him wet and deep, pressing his tongue in against Qui-Gon’s to stroke and explore. Qui-Gon had never wished more that he was unbound than in that exact moment, so that he could have reciprocated properly.

 

“Alright, alright, I don’t need to see it,” Shivin laughed, waving his arm at them and heading for the door. “He won’t hear about it from me, so just keep your boy toy under wraps, alright? Get back to me about that run to the mid-Rim.” 

Kenobi pulled away in order to answer, and Qui-Gon chased his lips, demanding. Rather than return to him, Kenobi yelled an affirmative after Shivin as he left, and as soon as the door shut once more was off Qui-Gon’s lap and at the door’s control, locking it.

 

“Apologies,” he said as he walked back over. “Shivin caught me by surprise on my way back, and there was no way for me to keep him out without inviting suspicion. I decided that, given his enmity with Garummm, it was the lesser of two evils.”

 

Qui-Gon groaned and let his head thunk back against the chair once more as Kenobi went to the ‘fresher to take care of his normal nightly routine. Now he was bound to a chair, sore, and hard on top of it all. This was not the worst situation he’d ever been in, but to be quite honest, it ranked up there as one of the most frustrating.

 

The next day was hell made of tedium. Kenobi greeted him, dressed, let in the Yinchorri guard once more and left. The guard helped him take care of his physical necessities, then resumed his faithful watch against the door. Qui-Gon debated the merits of activating the emergency transponder that was concealed in his cheek, where he could bite through to reach it, and decided that extreme boredom wasn’t good enough reason to call off their mission. 

 

Still, for a man used to action, this was unpleasant. Qui-Gon reached into the currents of the Force, pretending to sleep as he meditated, and once done ‘woke up’ feeling much refreshed. His communion had done more for his state of mind than his sleep the night before had, and he felt better prepared to take on this seemingly impossible situation.

 

If he was only allowed to reveal he was a Jedi, this would be far easier, he thought with a sigh. But if wishes were fishes we’d all live on Mon Cala, he told himself in a stern, Dooku-like mental voice, and then had to suppress a smile.

 

When Kenobi returned that evening, something was different, and Qui-Gon was immediately wary. He walked in quickly, different from his usual sauntering pace, and went up to the Yinchorri guard first thing. They looked at each for a long moment, and then shook hands, and Kenobi handed him a credit stick. The Yinchorri shot one last indecipherable look at Qui-Gon and then nodded to Kenobi once. The door swished as he left, and Kenobi and Qui-Gon were alone.

 

Payment for a job completed, Qui-Gon thought grimly. This was not good. Kenobi must have played with him all he wanted, and was going to dispose of him now--there was no other good reason for him to keep Qui-Gon around, save perhaps to try and bargain with him, but Kenobi was savvy enough to know that Garummm would never. So now Qui-Gon would be killed and his body taken away. Qui-Gon reached out in the Force, readying himself, and thus was taken by surprise by Kenobi’s next words.

 

“Soon.” His eyes looked tired, dark circles underneath and tense lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes and a larger one in the middle of his brow. “I’ll let you go, but you’re going to need to run. Make for an older cargo ship, and empty one, and stay out of the others’ way, and you should make it offworld before Judicial catches up to you.”

 

“You,” Qui-Gon sputtered, his Force grip on the bedside lamp dissolving in shock, “what?”

 

“Judicial will be raiding this facility tonight,” Kenobi said again, his patience obviously wearing thin. “You’re going to run. Don’t stay here. You’re a good man, Kaijin. I’ve seen how you look when you see what we do here. Get out.”

“Who--who the hell are you working for?” Qui-Gon demanded, and oh, he was beginning to understand--this was a twist he could never have imagined.

 

“Don’t ask, it’ll only get us both in trouble,” Kenobi said. “Although,” he continued wistfully, “I am sorry we had to meet like this. I think we might have gotten along well otherwise. In another life, perhaps.”

 

“No idea how we would have met, though,” Qui-Gon pointed out as he reached into the Force to assess Kenobi once again. Nothing. Actually--nothing directly from Kenobi, but the Force nudged at him, its currents pushing him in a certain direction. He stared down at his boots and tried to puzzle it out.

 

Boots.  _ Boots _ . 

 

Kenobi was wearing Order-issued black leather boots!

 

“How on earth did you get your hands on a Jedi’s boots?” he asked, stumped. Kenobi’s eyes went wide and his head snapped up from where it had hung to stare at Qui-Gon in shock.

 

“What?” he asked loudly, and Qui-Gon sensed he finally had the upper hand.

 

“A Jedi’s boots,” Qui said, leaning forward to nod down at Kenobi’s feet. “If you're working with Judicial, I doubt you killed a Jedi and took them.”

 

“How do you even know what Jedi boots look like?” Obi demanded, and Qui wiggled one booted foot at him.

 

Together they stared down at their field-issue boots, and then Kenobi threw his head back and laughed and laughed. A bonfire presence in the Force leapt into existence around him, and Qui-Gon watched it, stunned by how it made this man even more attractive, like he had his own gravity well and Qui was a captured celestial body in orbit. 

 

“They didn't tell me there'd be other operatives on this mission!”  he complained instead. Kenobi heaved a relieved sigh and undid Qui’s bonds with a flick of his hand; they fell to the floor unheeded as Qui rubbed the stiffness from his wrists. Elation and relief grew like a double sunrise in his chest, that this man he'd wanted so badly wasn’t a criminal, was in fact a Jedi--

 

“I'm a Shadow,” Kenobi explained, and relaxed back against the bed. “They wouldn't have known. Just our poor luck.”

 

“Rather good luck, I should say,” Qui-Gon mused. “You were about to let a criminal go free.” Kenobi’s face remained still, but his ears pinked, and Qui-Gon was delighted 

 

“Can we forget about that please,” Kenobi grumbled, and Qui-Gon began to grin.

 

“Of course,” Qui-Gon said. “I'm a good man, after all.”

 

“Oh, don't you start--”

 

“And I'm rather glad we met as we did,” Qui-Gon rumbled, finally standing and stepping forward to loom over Kenobi, whose eyes were startled but quickly grew appreciative. “I would never have gotten you into my lap so quickly otherwise.”

 

“You never know,” he answered, coy, his eyes darkening. He stretched, arching his back sensuously before relaxing once more, letting his knees fall wide. His eyes traveled down Qui-Gon’s body, anticipating, and then back up before licking his lips. “You're a very attractive man, after all. You've been very distracting, all tied up in my bedroom.”

 

Qui-Gon shivered, and when Kenobi tugged him down towards the bed by his shirt, he obeyed.

 

“How long until Judicial arrives?” Qui-Gon asked, warm breath against Obi-Wan’s cheek. Kenobi shivered with the feel of Qui-Gon's large form pressing down against his own. 

 

“Not nearly long enough for all the things I'd like to do with you, but long enough for one or two,” he replied with a toothy smile, and pushed up the rest of the way to kiss Qui-Gon on the mouth.

 

Kenobi’s lips tasted like the tabac Qui-Gon had always seen him smoking during meetings, but also of a familiar blend of tea, and Qui-Gon laughed when he remembered smelling it and being unsure why it seemed important. Kenobi recaptured his attention with a nip to his bottom lip, followed by a soothing stroke of his tongue, and Qui-Gon put tea out of mind. Perhaps permanently, if this was his reward. He could learn to tolerate caff. 

 

Kenobi seemed pleased by his reaction, and shucked the waist of Qui-Gon’s tunics up so that he could feel skin, rubbing gently and insistently at the muscle he found. 

 

“What would you like,” Qui-Gon asked between kisses, then immediately returned to mouthing at Kenobi’s jaw. The redhead hummed, eyes sliding shut, and threaded his hand into Qui-Gon’s hair with a loose grip that he tightened now and again.

 

“I’d like to see you tied up again,” Kenobi answered, “with your willing participation, this time. Or myself. I’m flexible.” He finished with a grin, stretching again, and pulled his heel up Qui-Gon’s back, rubbing between his shoulder blades pleasantly to show off. Imagining what they could do with his heels that far up in the air was more than enough to bring him up hard, tenting his pants, and Qui-Gon took a moment to unbutton them so relieve some of the pressure.

 

“You certainly are,” Qui-Gon agreed, taking Kenobi’s hands and pinning them above his head. “We can be creative, can’t we? Put your hands here and just pretend you’re bound.” 

 

“Mm, you’ve caught me,” Kenobi said, and did as he was asked. “Whatever shall you do with me, now?” 

 

“Whatever I like, I suppose.” Qui-Gon leaned up a little, thoughtful, and took in the mouth watering image before him. “Where to start…”

 

“I have some suggestions,” Kenobi said, and pushed his hips up to grind against Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon could feel his hardness through the layers of clothes--could feel its heat and length as Kenobi moved against him, and came to his own conclusion.

 

“Excellent suggestion,” he replied, and pinned Kenobi’s thighs down with his forearms. 

 

The hitch in Kenobi’s breathing told Qui-Gon that it was not an unwelcome gesture, and he stowed the information away for...some hopeful somewhen in the future. For now, he nosed the knot of the tie free of Kenobi’s shirt collar and carefully, carefully, took it apart with his teeth and gentle tugging.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Kenobi groaned, having craned his head forward to watch. Qui-Gon heard and felt his head move, falling back against the bed again, and felt rather smug. Once the tie was opened, he went on to unbutton the man’s shirt, agonizingly slow, delighting in the red chest hair underneath and the way he shivered whenever Qui-Gon would pause and lave a patch of skin with his tongue, or nip just hard enough to sting. 

 

“You’re going to kill me,” Kenobi gasped, flexing his thighs against Qui-Gon’s hold. 

 

“Only a little,” Qui-Gon reassured, and nipped him again. The last button he took extra slowly, drawing out the tension, enjoying the way Kenobi’s hips pushed up in tiny increments as though he simply couldn’t sit still, and it was only the heavy ache of his own cock that made him move on without first thoroughly exploring all the freshly-discovered skin above the belt. The belt was only slightly more difficult than the buttons had been, and the zipper he took more slowly than everything before, but in all fairness it turned out Kenobi had not been wearing underpants, and Qui-Gon didn’t think he wanted to be caught in his zip.

 

“Naughty,” Qui-Gon said, pushing his face against Kenobi’s groin alongside his cock. He smelled amazing; Qui-Gon thought he could stay there all day and be well pleased. Kenobi’s cock was a sturdy thing, foreskin rolling back to half-reveal the sensitive head, Underneath it, his balls were generous without being overly large, and the whole package was wreathed in neatly-trimmed red curls. 

 

“Forgot to grab them this morning,” Kenobi explained. He made a frustrated noise as he tried and failed to push his cock further towards Qui-Gon’s mouth, and then went limp as he gave up. “You were sitting right there in front of my dresser, and I didn’t want to come out half dressed…”

 

“So you went the day without, instead?” Qui-Gon laughed, and rubbed his cheek against the length of Kenobi’s cock. That produced a very satisfying gasp.

 

“Cheeky, I know,” Kenobi said, and Qui-Gon turned to put his chin against Kenobi’s abdomen and stare up at him.

 

“Was that really necessary,” Qui-Gon said, and Kenobi laughed. 

 

“Yes,” he replied with a bright smile. Qui-Gon lipped at the base of his cock.

 

“Being quiet,” Kenobi said, and Qui-Gon rewarded him by moving up his cock bit at a time and ending with a long lick across the frenulum and up to the head. He savored the taste and feel of him, the salt musk in his nose and on his tongue.

 

“Ooooh, Force, worth it,” Kenobi swore, “that mouth of yours, Kaijin, sweet gods--!”

 

“Qui-Gon. Not Kaijin,” Qui-Gon corrected, and Kenobi picked his head up to look at him.

 

“Qui-Gon? Jinn?” he asked, gaping. Qui-Gon looked up at him, questioning without words, and Kenobi swallowed, shook his head, and flopped back once more. “Nothing. I’ve heard of you. Never expected to meet you again.”

 

“Again? When did we meet before?” Qui-Gon demanded, abandoning Kenobi’s cock in favor of answers, and Kenobi whined.

 

“Can we please talk about it later? After? Maybe even after Judicial arrives, because I’d like us both to be done before then?” 

 

Qui-Gon huffed, but scooted back once more, and decided that he was done teasing. Kenobi yelped when Qui-Gon sucked him down in one move, wetting his dick to the base, and then eased off to focus on the head and making up for the rest with a strong hand. The sounds he was making! Qui-Gon couldn’t help but groan at a particularly loud one, and it made Kenobi writhe against the sheets. Qui-Gon didn’t tease, didn’t try and draw it out for hours, but neither did he rush; there was time enough for this, Kenobi had said, and Qui-Gon decided to trust him. 

 

He sucked and licked until his jaw began to ache, and took a break to explore and suckle Kenobi’s balls, almost meditating on the sensations and the way his movements made Kenobi sound. He kept pumping Kenobi’s cock with his hand, wet, obscene noises punctuating their panting and noises of pleasure. Qui-Gon pushed his own aching cock down against the bed for stimulation just enough to satisfy himself.

 

It must have been some time later when the sounds above him got desperate and Kenobi’s cock hardened further. He was close to coming, Qui-Gon could tell, but apparently was closer than he’d realized: Qui-Gon let Kenobi’s balls go gently, intending to go back to blowing him, when Kenobi gasped and thrust up hard against Qui-Gon’s hand, pulsing wet heat over his first. He fell back when he was done, panting and shivering a little, wrists still held crossed over his head.

 

"All that's holy, Qui-Gon," Kenobi said, gasping for breath.

 

“Gorgeous,” Qui-Gon rumbled, and stripped his tunic and pants off. Kenobi was a mess, his shirt open but still on, his pants unbuttoned and come cooling on his belly, and it was absolutely irresistible--Qui-Gon climbed back on top of him and wiped his cock through Kenobi’s spend, slicking himself, and then rutted against him.

 

Warm hands touched him, following the shape of his chest, the lines of his arms. Kenobi pinched his nipple, testing, and was rewarded when Qui-Gon choked back a groan and stuttered in his rhythm at the unexpected pleasure. Unexpected, but of course not unwelcome; Qui-Gon picked up speed and lowered himself so that his cock was trapped between them, providing more stimulation, and Kenobi pinched again and again.

 

He was going to come soon, already, he knew it. He spent so long on his partner that now his limit was almost reached. Kenobi pulled him down the last bit and kissed him deeply, and it seemed the perfect time to let go, and so Qui-Gon did. He moaned, a deep bass that he felt down to his bones, and spent himself between them on their skin.

 

They laid together for as long as they could, catching their breath and marveling at how warm the room seemed and how soothing the beat of each other’s hearts was to them. Eventually Kenobi nudged Qui-Gon off of him, and they both went to clean up. Judicial would be there in a few hours, and Qui-Gon for one didn’t want to be caught with his pants down.

  
  


Afterwards, in the organized chaos that was a mass arrest, he found Kenobi again. The other Jedi was sipping a cup of caff, chatting with an officer, and beamed at him when he noticed him walking up.

 

“Qui-Gon, we did it,” he exulted. “We got everyone! They didn’t even manage a last-minute launch to get rid of cargo. We did it.” Qui-Gon felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and gave in. Why not? An extraordinary man was blazing with joy in the Force next to him, and Qui-Gon got to have sex with him less than twelve hours ago. Excellent sex, even. They should do it again sometime very soon. The thought dimmed his exuberance some, but he kept it from his face.

 

Kenobi caught it anyway. Weeks of being around nobody Force-sensitive had apparently also put him slightly out of practice with shielding against other Jedi. Qui-Gon sighed; that would make for a difficult first day or so back at the Temple.

 

“What’s wrong?” Kenobi asked as the officer moved away to give them privacy. 

 

“We’re done,” Qui-Gon pointed out, and Kenobi caught on. He put the caff down on the hood of a Judicial vehicle and then stepped forward into Qui-Gon’s arms, holding him and offering comfort.

 

“Not unless you’d like to be,” Kenobi said, and Qui-Gon frowned down at the top of Kenobi’s head.

 

“You’re a Shadow,” Qui-Gon pointed out. Kenobi turned his head to the side and peeked up at him.

 

“I was,” he said. “The Council had petitioned for me to rotate through the classes in-Temple for a while, maybe take some regular missions. I’ve been doing this work for a long time--this job alone was three years.” Qui-Gon gaped, then recovered himself enough to shut his mouth.

 

“And you would--you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?” he asked, feeling a little self-conscious. Kenobi might have enjoyed his time with Qui-Gon here, where there were few other consciousable options at hand, but back at the Temple, where Qui-Gon would be in his boring clothes, back to being a boring Master…

 

“Are you kidding me? I’d love to. It’s been a very long time since I sparred properly with a saber, and if your saber skills are as good as your hand-to-hand it’ll actually be a challenge. And…” Kenobi paused, and then pushed on, “I find I admire you very much. This kind of work is not what you were trained for, and yet I had no idea who you were until that moment in my room, only that you were quick with your wit and ridiculously attractive. I’d like to get to know you more.”

 

“I’d like that too,” Qui-Gon said around the tightness in his throat, and they held each other as the maelstrom of the operation whirled around them.


End file.
